


Freedom to be Owned

by SavioBriion



Series: Freedom to be Owned [2]
Category: The Bible
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2012-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavioBriion/pseuds/SavioBriion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NC17, 2010. It is Lucifer who gave Belial his treasured freedom to choose, and so he chooses to be Lucifer’s.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freedom to be Owned

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Belial's Fall.

Belial is still a little unsure about exactly what he has done – kissing, touching, caressing, he knows that, but this new slide of skin against skin is so much more – but whatever it is called, he wants more of it and often. 

Besides, and this makes him smile, he has already Fallen. Heaven’s rules hold no sway over his actions now and he needs no other reason than ‘because I wanted to’ to act upon his desires. Though he had been aware of his new-found freedom for some time, the realisation of it now is no less heady than it had been the first time.

He moves even closer to the other warm body in the bed, black hair falling around his face to slide across the fair skin below as he presses light kisses to Lucifer’s chest. Lucifer smiles, tilting his chin up, and studies him for a long moment. 

“Is something wrong?” Belial murmurs, and Lucifer shakes his head. 

“No. I was merely contemplating something.” He runs a finger across Belial’s bottom lip; the demon parts his lips and slowly sucks it in. “I made you, in a way, did I not?”

Belial releases his finger. “Yes, Lord. We were trapped. You made us into so much more.” 

“Especially you, dear Belial.” The smile on Lucifer’s face could almost be called fond, if one were feeling charitable. “I can think of few who could resist you; a good thing, given your new tasks.”

Belial bows his head slightly. “I will perform them to the best of my ability, Lord. I am sure I will enjoy it.”

“I am sure you will.” Something flares in golden eyes, deep and dangerous, as the grip on Belial’s jaw tightens, forcing him to look up into those eyes. Not that he would ever wish to look away.

Lucifer’s voice is low, and the raw possessiveness sends shivers down Belial’s spine. “Remember though, you are _mine_. You owe who you are now to me.” 

His Crown swallows and nods. “Yours,” he echoes. “Always, Lord. Anything you ask of me, I will give.” 

The Morningstar seems pleased and moves to reward him with a fierce kiss – owning, claiming, possessing. And Belial responds in kind, acquiescing, submitting, pleasuring. He lets Lucifer slide his hands up his arms, capturing and pinning his wrists above his head; he squirms a little, longing to touch Lucifer as he is being touched, but he does not truly attempt to break the grip. He arches up instead, pressing against Lucifer as much as he can.

Lucifer tangles his fingers in Belial’s hair, clenching them, pulling Belial’s head back to bare his neck, and Belial lets him. The Morningstar is no longer pinning his wrists, preferring to touch Belial elsewhere, but the Crown keeps his hands above his head anyway, knowing that Lucifer wants it and surrendering to that whim. He hisses sharply – and not entirely in pain - as his neck is bitten, but then the reddened skin is being licked, sucked on, and the thought of the mark it will leave sends a thrill of pleasure shooting through his body. 

It is Lucifer who gave Belial his treasured freedom to choose, and so he chooses to be Lucifer’s, gives himself wholly to Lucifer, bears the raised red marks of Lucifer’s ownership proudly. Belial lets Lucifer dominate him as he pleases; he may refuse a little in play, just to have the Morningstar reassert his ownership, but the idea of an outright denial is unthinkable. 

The Morningstar sits up slowly, hungry gaze raking over his demon, fingertips skittering lightly over Belial’s body before taking hold of Belial’s hips in a bruising grip. 

“So pretty, so obedient, spread out for me as you are,” and Belial gasps as one of Lucifer’s hands leaves his hip, moving between his legs. “All _mine_.”

“Yours, Lord. Always.”


End file.
